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FIRST RULE OF DRAGON riding: Never pretend you're in complete control.
—Barabas DeGuiere, dragon rider
* * *
EMMET PICKETTE WATCHED in horror, realizing his sister had fallen into what looked like one of his episodes. Knowing all too well the overwhelming sensation, his heart raced in empathy. Always before he'd thought there was nothing anyone could do to help him during his episodes, but now he understood better. From the hem of his coat, he pulled the two stones Keldon had given him, each containing a small reserve of energy—one slightly more than the other. Using the very last magic available to him, Emmet soothed his sister and ignored the Al'Zjhon. He was defenseless and Golegeth was no match for ancient magic, but neither was Emmet. In the end, he was compelled to do for his sister what she had always wanted to do for him.
Emmet Pickette let the magic flow through him until it was gone. Now chalky and white, the stones were depleted. Not wanting to destroy them as he had his first stone, he would draw on them no more. With trembling hands, he put them back in the wooden box and into his jacket.
Light erupted from Casta Mett's staff, and Golegeth cried out in pain. He thrashed the air, his tail whipping back and forth, and Emmet was taken along for the ride. No matter how brave coming here may have been, he stood no chance against the Al'Zjhon.
It shamed him that he could not save his sister the way she had always done for him. She looked back with understanding and gratitude, though. At least she was conscious and able to act in her own defense now. Perhaps hope still existed.
Golegeth hopped awkwardly, not putting any weight on his right front leg. Casta Mett aimed at him again, the light growing brighter. When a dark shape flashed through the air and slammed into her, Emmet didn't know what to think. One moment she'd been standing there, and the next, she was gone. Two bodies collided—one moving at high speed and the other standing still. The air leaving their bodies was painful to hear, and they tumbled to the back of the hall, one looking like an overstuffed sack about to burst. Behind him came ropes and a small explosion followed by a wall of canvas. Perhaps not in the way it had been designed, the parachute caught on the broken table and did slow the man down some. Emmet had to shake his head when he thought he recognized Brick. It seemed impossible, yet there he was, out cold on top of Casta Mett, who also did not move.
Emmet heard the terrifying battle behind him and turned to see, unable to resist the need to know what took place outside. Too powerful was the instinct to watch his back. Objects within the cavern called to him, but they would have to wait a moment longer. Berigor reached Argus and his dragon. The two beasts now clung to each other in a deadly embrace, tails wrapped around each other and massive jaws open and ready to make the kill. Barabas and Keldon were helpless as the larger dragon overwhelmed Berigor, and though he issued dragon fire, the wild dragon was able to physically dominate him and direct the deadly fire into empty air.
His friends were about to die. Golegeth cried out, lunging toward Agger and Grunt, who now moved toward Riette and Tuck with malicious intent. Striking each in the chest in rapid succession with his closed mouth, the dragon knocked them backward, the air rushing from their lungs. Brick now stood behind the two men, caught them, and knocked their heads together. Casta Mett remained still, beside her a staff radiating power and a stone that sucked the light from the room. When Emmet was filled with power, the stone was like a deep hole in space into which he might fall and never been seen again. He found it disturbing yet alluring. He knew what the sky stone was and what it could do. Casta Mett would use it to make herself immune to magical attacks, and that was an advantage Emmet wanted to take from her—permanently.
Golegeth must have understood his desire or responded to his movements within the saddle and his input through the lines. Taking him closer to Casta Mett's still form, the dragon leaned down low, allowing Emmet to reach the stone without having to leave the saddle. No sooner had his fingers closed around cold stone than the air around him exploded. Magic, lightning, and fire erupted around Emmet but mostly struck Golegeth.
The dragon reared back in shock and pain, his heart racing hard enough that Emmet felt it. Gleaming lines issued sparks and filaments of light, each biting into the dragon, reaching in behind tough scales and inflicting acute pain. Casta Mett stood smiling in spite of the blood that ran down her forehead. In her hands were lines like those Deacon Rex used to control Argus Kind's dragon. Emmet and Golegeth had fallen into their trap. It was then he realized it might have been him they wanted all along. Though Argus Kind may have had a long-standing feud with Barabas, the man was long past his prime and would not pose much of a threat without his dragon.
Azzakkan's Eye was indeed a prize worth fighting over, but Emmet could be so much more. His ability to sense and locate magic made him the most valuable thing of all. And he'd foolishly flown right into their hands, bringing with him a young, impressionable dragon. Barabas had told him to stay back, but Golegeth read his deepest desires and brought him here anyway. Emmet could not blame the dragon since he truly wanted nothing more than to save his sister and his friend. How could he blame the creature for being brave enough to come here and try to fulfill his wishes? He could not. Now, though, the dragon was already paying a price. The thought of Golegeth's life being spent in captivity and denied free will was physically painful—a fate perhaps even worse than death.
There was a difference between the relationships he and Barabas and Keldon had with their dragons and what Argus Kind had done to the poor creature he rode. Golegeth stayed with Emmet not because he was constrained by magic, but because he cared about him. One might even say he loved Emmet; they were family. What Argus Kind did was to enslave a creature and destroy its spirit.
This was the fate Golegeth now faced, and Emmet tried to release himself from the saddle, to find some way to reach Casta Mett and stop her no matter the cost. Struggling, he held on to the sky stone, despite its making his skin crawl while leeching energy from the air around it. Lightning arced between the outstretched stone and the magic lines over Golegeth's head. For an instant, the radiance pulsing through the lines was interrupted. Ordinary metal links making up the chain were revealed. Golegeth turned back toward Emmet until the sky stone and the lines touched. The previously glowing magic lines went dark.
Golegeth swung his head violently, the chains still wrapped around Casta Mett's wrists. Cast along the smooth floor, skidding to a stop just before the entrance, Casta Mett slowly toppled over the edge. The metal lines snapped tight, and Golegeth stumbled forward, pulled by her weight.
Just outside the cavern, Berigor's neck was exposed, and the wild dragon lashed out. Emmet watched in stunned horror, his mind failing to process the information quickly enough to save his valiant friends, but his sister had been watching. Released from her episode, she had seen what the sky stone did to the lines, and she did what he could not. After snatching the sky stone from Emmet's grip, she threw it with all her strength just as massive jaws came close enough to buffet him with a rush of wind. The sky stone flew, tumbling end over end, striking the wild dragon in the jaw, connecting solidly with the lines restraining the majestic beast. The force of the impact not only interrupted the energy flowing through the lines but also sheared through the metal rings on one side. Even when the energy did begin to flow once again, it was greatly diminished.
The dragon collided with Berigor but did not bite down on his neck as he could have. Instead he thrashed his head from side to side, yanking the lines from Deacon Rex's hands. The man sat in his saddle, stunned. When the towering dragon turned and gazed down on him, the lines still dangling from his head, Deacon Rex screamed. In an instant, he was gone.
Argus Kind had already realized his fate and aimed his light bow at his own dragon. The beast glared at him, daring him to discharge the weapon. The usurper king pulled the trigger. A bolt of light and fire struck the beast in the jaw, just below its artificial eye socket. It staggered back, pushing away from Berigor. Before the larger dragon could get away, though, Berigor had an opening. Lashing out at the larger dragon's throat, he did not go for the killing blow as Emmet had expected; instead, he latched on to the still glowing lines. With a single tug, he freed the mighty dragon from its chains. The giant roared and chuffed, shaking its head and rattling Argus in the saddle. Having been violently whipped back and forth, Argus Kind was still trying to return to his senses when the light bow was yanked from his limp grip. When he did come to, he screamed. The dragon tossed the ancient artifact into the valley and flew out to sea, apparently not yet finished with Argus Kind, whose screams gradually faded.
Emmet slumped in the saddle for a moment, overcome with emotion and pride for his sister, who stood in the entranceway, her hands over her mouth. Golegeth peeked over the ledge. Casta Mett still held on to the lines. She dangled above a terrace; the fall probably wouldn't kill her, but it was unlikely to leave her uninjured. The lines remained wrapped around her wrist, but her other hand was free and still held the staff.
Golegeth began pulling her up. Without ever changing the expression on her dour face, the woman reached up and unleashed an attack on the lines themselves, which snapped under the assault and sent her tumbling to the stone below. After shaking off the remains of the lines looped over his own neck, Golegeth leaped down to where Casta Mett had fallen. Within a sandy garden, they found the staff, but the woman was gone. When they returned to the upper chamber, Agger and Grunt were also gone. Berigor rested on an adjacent portico, his saddles currently empty. Barabas and Keldon waited inside with Riette and Tuck.
Emmet climbed down from Golegeth's back. The dragon immediately launched himself into the air and flew away. Emmet prayed he would not get himself killed.
When Emmet looked back to Riette, she met his eyes. No words were exchanged between them; none were required. Tears welled in both their eyes, and he ran to her, wrapping her in a tight embrace. "I'm so sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry for everything."
Riette sobbed. "I've always loved you. Even when I behaved poorly."
"I know. I know."
"And now I might understand a little better myself," she said. "Thank you for helping me. How . . . did . . . this happen?"
"Magic. Dashiq used her last magic to knock me back into synchronization with time."
Riette chewed on those words. "That's what it was like for you all the time, wasn't it? What I experienced was one of your episodes, wasn't it?"
"I think so."
"I'm going to have to keep an eye on you," Tuck interjected. "Nice throw, by the way."
Riette laughed and elbowed him. Tuck winced in pain. "I'm so sorry!"
"Oh," Tuck grunted. "Don't worry. It'll heal eventually."
Berigor sniffed at the group then chuffed in satisfaction. None of them were seriously injured, and for the moment, no one threatened them.
"We should get out of here," Barabas said.
Keldon nodded in agreement.
Emmet pointed to the back of the chamber, "Magic."
Barabas appeared torn but was unable to resist the temptation. He and Tuck had searched the rest of the world for magic without ever finding a fraction of what Argus Kind had in his collection. The man had not had a lick of magic in him yet hoarded the greatest magics remaining in the world. "How much are we talking about here?" Barabas asked.
"It feels like a lot," Emmet said.
Riette continued to stare at him. "I'm sorry, my brother," Riette said. "You are far more intelligent than I had given you credit for."
"It wasn't your fault—or mine."
Keldon went first, moving deeper into the mountain. Tuck and Barabas did their best to reinforce the man in case they encountered trouble. Thus far the halls had been empty and silent, but no one let down their guard. Emmet let the magic draw him onward. He moved in selfish interest, though he knew it would serve them all. Even with Argus Kind gone, such magic still threatened the world. It occurred to him that simply transferring the possession of such a collection would not necessarily ameliorate the danger. When the magic washed over him in waves and the light shone so brightly, he had to cover his eyes, Emmet was thrilled to see a collection not so different from the one they had destroyed, albeit smaller. In some ways, destroying the stash of magic items had been against his own self-interest, but such were the consequences of war.
Seeing an array of glass spheres suspended on delicate stands made his heart race. Without actually meaning to, he picked one up. It was warm and slick in his hands. Power pulsed through the object, honed and refined by the form and structure of the glass. Swirls of color backed one side, but the other half revealed a translucent world of chaos. It swirled and danced within as he turned it in his hand. Another contained a blooming flower—springtime forever captured in glass. Emmet marveled over its beauty and tried to figure out how one could capture a flower in molten glass and leave it perfectly intact, looking fresh as if still on the vine. Six staves filled a rack on the wall, and one broken light bow remained. For Emmet, even a single glass sphere was a treasure beyond reckoning.
"Let's load up what we can and get out of here," Barabas said.
The group bundled up as much of the valuable collection as they could and packed the priceless and potentially dangerous items within saddlebags, pockets, and anywhere else they could manage. Emmet still sensed magic within the mountain and even on the island surrounding him. It was a powerful place, but he left confident he had enough magic to last the rest of his life. He almost felt a little bad for taking the treasure from those on the Firstland, but they had proven poor stewards. He promised to do better and accepted his selfish desire never to become disconnected from the world again.
Golegeth returned not long after Berigor was loaded. The young dragon struggled to reach them, most likely due to the large man on his back. Joren looked terrified and still wore his leather jumpsuit. Brick helped him down after Golegeth landed.
"Are you all right?" Brick asked, guilt and concern evident in his voice.
His father nodded. "That was a terrible idea."
"I know," Brick said.
"I mean a really terrible idea."
"I know." Brick grinned.
* * *
WALKING THROUGH SPARROWPORT with Tuck holding her hand was perhaps the happiest moment of Riette's life. In many ways it was also sad, but she concentrated on the good parts. The debris had been cleared from town, and ambitious reconstruction was under way. Those of the Zjhon fleet, stranded in the Midlands, were not themselves evil. Some had refused to integrate with the local peoples and were last seen making boats from wrecked airships, but most had stayed. Progress moved a little more slowly in the world, but that suited Riette just fine. It was unfortunate the decrease in the popularity of traveling by airship or airplane also meant an increase in demand for dragon-based transportation. She would not allow herself to cry.
Tuck held open the door to the smithy, and Riette slipped in. Joren sat to one side, watching Brick fabricate a gear.
"You've got to get the curvature just perfect," the old smith said.
"I know. I know," Brick replied, smiling the whole time. Never before had he been so content. In their younger days, he had longed to do anything but work in the hot, sweaty smithy, but he'd seen his share of adventure now, and the people counted on him to make so many of the things they required. It was good to feel needed.
"Well, well. Look at the two of you lovebirds walking around, trying to make an old man jealous," Joren said when they walked in.
Brick looked up from his work and grinned at them. Then he frowned. "Just a moment," he said and quenched the gear.
"How do you know it was perfect?" Joren asked.
"I know."
"Did you check it?"
"No," Brick admitted.
"Well, then you don't know, and what you don't know you don't know. You know? Always check it."
"I always check before they leave the shop, Dad."
"You're supposed to check it before and after. If you just check it after and it's wrong, then you have to start all over again. What sense does that make?"
Brick stared at his father for a moment before looking back to Riette and Tuck. "I suppose you've come to pick up your gift."
Riette nodded sadly, pursing her lips.
"It really is a lovely gift," Joren said.
Brick shot him a look, and the old smith rolled his eyes. "You know I don't usually work in wood," he said, and he presented a short staff of polished cedar topped by a bronze dragon's claw holding Emmet's favorite chaos sphere. He said it was as if he could see all of creation within its depths, and Riette wondered how much of it was true. It was beautiful and complex indeed, but the universe did not swirl for her the way he said it did for him. It was something she might never understand. If Emmet said it moved, it moved. Thoughts of him were painful, and she took a deep, shuddering breath.
"Well, aren't you going to give her the one you've been working on when you were supposed to be sleeping?" Joren asked.
Brick glared at his father but did not respond. He turned back to Riette. "I made something for you too." He took a moment to stare down his father again before he presented Riette with a staff, her favorite flower marble mounted at the top. Brick had constructed a smooth, straight staff with sweeping lines forming a perfect stem and leaves for the flower trapped in glass. He handed it to her with a grin. Her mouth hung open. Tuck had said he was having a nice box made for it. She had never expected something so perfect. When she closed her hand around it, magic streamed in through her fingertips, and she could no longer hold back her tears. "Thank you," she said. "It's beautiful."
"I talked to Emmet and Barabas this morning, but you tell them I said good-bye," he said, still unwilling to accept a compliment.
Riette nodded. Part of her wanted to drag her feet, as if that would stop him from going. He'd grown so much, so fast, it scared her. But mostly she was grateful for what Dashiq had done. She had given Emmet a chance to do things he might not otherwise have been able to do. Dashiq had helped Riette find understanding and compassion and even forgiveness. It had been difficult, but she had accepted the truth. Having Tuck at her side made it a little easier to bear.
"Thank you both for everything," Riette said before leaving. "We should take some sweet rolls."
Tuck gave her a look that said he knew she was delaying the inevitable, though he did eat two sweet rolls. The walk to the airfield was the completion of a strange circle in her life. There waited a dragon and her brother and Barabas. Tuck squeezed her hand.
She'd come for a proud moment to see her brother off on his journey, but things didn't appear to be going terribly well. An enormous Golegeth, who continued to get bigger with each passing day, dragged Emmet across the airstrip. Bigger did not necessarily translate to more mature.
"He'll be fine," Barabas said while eating a sweet roll. Then he shouted to Emmet, his speech continuing to improve. "Bring him on over here, and let's get this thing on him!"
Golegeth continued dragging Emmet around the airfield, by the looks of it chasing butterflies. The dragon would stop for a moment, wait, wiggle his hind end, and spring into the air using all four legs. Emmet was getting better at predicting when the dragon would jump, but he still had little control over where they went.
"Is this normal?" Riette asked, becoming sincerely concerned for her brother's safety.
Barabas nodded. "Bring him back over here!" he shouted to Emmet.
Riette glared at him when the dragon pounced on the same butterfly for the fifth time.
"All right. You're doing good. Wear him out," Barabas said. He turned back to Riette. "Sometimes you just gotta let them get it out of their system. This one likes butterflies. It'll pass."
"And Emmet?" she asked.
"They're bonding," he said. He laughed from his belly, no longer able to contain his mirth. "He'll be fine. The dragon won't hurt him. That dragon loves that boy, and that boy loves that dragon. We'll get the tierre on him when he's ready. Things like this aren't supposed to come easy."
Riette shook her head and turned her attention to the thing Barabas called a tierre. He'd said it was an ancient word and that Golegeth was the first dragon large enough to warrant one since the last war of power. Rather than a saddle, the tierre was wood and leather construction forming a cabin atop the dragon. It would seat three rows of three on each side of a central aisle. At the front were a pair of comfortable seats and thick, heavy lines with loops of reinforced leather forming handholds.
Emmet approached a moment later, his chest heaving from exertion and his clothes grass stained but a smile on his face. Golegeth followed him, panting. Riette held back a giggle, not wanting to embarrass her brother, but he didn't appear to care. He'd been denied so much in his life, it warmed her soul to see him get to do the thing that made his heart sing. She was going to miss him.
"I brought you this." She handed him the staff.
"You didn't have to go and do that, but—ooh. What is it? Lemme have it. Mine, mine, mine." His eyes went wide when he held the staff in his hands for the first time. "Brick did this?"
Riette nodded.
"He outdid himself."
"He made this one for me," she said, showing him the staff she'd already grown entirely too attached to. She couldn't help it. It made her feel more complete.
It had been Emmet who suggested the lily marble would help make sure she never experienced an episode again. "Perhaps our smith friend has missed his calling. I never pictured him a whittler."
"I'll be sure to tell him you said that," Riette said.
"Wait until I've left if you don't mind."
She nodded, not trusting her voice.
"I'm glad you're here," Barabas said. "I hope you didn't just come for the refreshments. We need some help getting this tierre on our big friend here. You got him this time?" Barabas asked Emmet.
He had to be joking, but it was at times difficult to tell. In the end, Tuck and Barabas did most of the heavy lifting, and Riette, her best to guide them. Golegeth snorted the entire time, watching them without blinking, but he allowed them to slide the tierre into place and secure the straps. It was not so unlike the saddle to which he was already accustomed.
Once the cabin was secured, Emmet climbed the rope ladder for the first time and entered the place where he would be the captain. In control of his own destiny, the world was an open canvas. A tough teacher Barabas may be, but he cared for Emmet; of that there was no doubt. It had been a difficult thing for Tuck and Barabas to end their partnership, but things had worked out for the best. Barabas would look after Emmet and Golegeth, and Riette would look after Tuck. She giggled at that thought.
People had begun to arrive at the airfield and watched the events transpire. Soon a balloon drifted toward the airstrip, the pilot using thrusters to steer against the wind. Emmet sat alone in his tierre and had just buckled himself in when Golegeth spotted the balloon. Bouncing on all fours, he looked back at Emmet. His pupils wide, he turned and leaped into the air from a standstill.
"Whoa!" came Emmet's shout from the tierre.
"Uh-oh," Barabas said with a chuckle.
Riette gaped.
"He won't eat anybody," Barabas continued with a lopsided grin. "But I bet they don't know that."
After three times approaching the balloon, Golegeth tired of the game and landed back where he'd started. He looked back at Emmet again, his pupils still wide, as if he found it all immensely amusing.
"You probably shouldn't have let him do that," Barabas said, and Tuck couldn't contain his laughter.
Riette elbowed him in the ribs.
Emmet climbed down, and despite looking a wee bit squeamish, he took his proper place as both barker and pilot—just as Barabas had started out. People disembarking from the balloon cast a wide berth around the dragon who had greeted them. "Fly Dragon Airways," Emmet called out to the first person who passed. "We don't normally scare folks like that."
Emmet smiled at Tuck, who smacked his forehead.
"Fly Dragon Airways," Emmet said to the next man, who grumbled in response. "At least we're friendly, even if perhaps too friendly."
Barabas groaned.
"Fly Dragon Airways. We don't hardly never crash."
Tuck gave Emmet the thumbs-up on that one. Barabas shook his head.